


Alone

by Zerotaste



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mentions of August/April/December, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26612962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerotaste/pseuds/Zerotaste
Summary: Staring at himself in the mirror he lets his hands run over bare skin. Almost everything he sees is as it was when he still had August. There’s a few more scars, most from brutal interrogation at the hands of the Organisation itself. He dreads acquiring more and his outer shell changing further from the April August knew too. Hands moving up his neck he reaches for his glasses. It had been August’s suggestion that he wear them as Chikage, he’d picked out the frames saying he looked respectable and handsome in them and April hadn’t had a choice. He’s replaced them once during his time as Chikage, buying identical frames. Setting them down on the vanity he turns away from his reflection. He’s even less himself than usual tonight, unstable. Stress is building up despite him being able to take his time to breathe, perhaps it’s because he has that time that he’s feeling this way.For A3! NSFW week day three - Masturbation
Relationships: August/Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Ass! Addict! Actors! an A3! NSFW Week 2020





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> So this isn't sexy, it's angsty and in the mind of that revenge driven unstable Chikage that he was between August's death and finding out the truth during act 5 but he does indeed masturbate and it is nsfw so it fits the prompt.

Silence greets him as he opens the door to the hideout, no one there to respond to the _‘I’m home’_ that falls from his lips out of habit as he steps inside. Clenching his jaw and exhaling heavily, he takes a moment to push back the emotional response that starts to boil under the surface. One day he’ll open the door and those words won’t leave his lips anymore, is it better to crush the habit entirely and to lose another piece of August, or to keep doing it like some fool speaking to a ghost?

As he leaves the entrance he moves out of habit, turning on lights, his laptop and the television for background noise. With them things start to feel a little less lonely. A little more normal. It still doesn’t feel right and it never will. Perhaps after he exacts his revenge he’ll feel more at peace, perhaps he won’t. Hands tense into fists before relaxing, he doesn’t have too much work on his plate from the Organisation tonight, he can allow himself to dig through social media and image boards for any more tidbits of information regarding _him_. He’s got an idea building of how exactly to get back at him now, but it will take time. He needs to hurt him the way he’s hurting right now, every little bit of pain he’s felt, he’ll inflict back onto him. Destroy him and crush what he has and give him exactly what he deserves for taking August from him. Give him exactly what he deserves for destroying the life they had.

He will pay, April will make sure of it. There’s no way out of this that doesn’t result in him suffering. It’s only a matter of time before the Organisation finds out he’s alive and takes him in. While that would also be a fitting punishment, the cruel torture and the subsequent disposal of him after they’ve squeezed every drop on information out of him that they can, it would leave April feeling unfulfilled. He wants December to know what he’s put him through before he can let them get their hands on that irredeemable traitor.

Catching his mouth twisting into a cruel smirk he closes his eyes and shakes his head. Letting himself get too caught up in personal feelings will result in a miss step on his part. He needs to be rational about this or things will fall through, December was smart enough to pull the wool over his and August’s eyes after all. If he moves too fast or without thinking he’s going to end up being played like an idiot by him all over again. He’s not letting that bastard get away with that again. He’s probably laughing at him, living life so freely with that theatre troupe, performing on stage and playing at normal. Their lives can never be normal, they aren’t allowed to live like that and April needs to deliver a very, very strong and devastating reminder of that.

Hands going to his blazer he shrugs it off. Showering is probably a good idea before he gets stuck in this spiral of hate and acts recklessly. Wash away this train of thought before he drowns in it. As he walks through the hideout, hands undoing buttons methodically he tries to keep his mind free from anything at all. It’s hard, lately this has become a habit and it feels like almost all that he lives for. August had given him a reason to live and now he lives to avenge August. The only other thing he’s managing asides from work is updating the curry blog and while his readers haven’t noticed a change, even doing that feels like a chore sometimes these days. Everything just feels like he’s going through the motions, the only times he feels truly alive are when he’s planning how to make December suffer or on a particularly violent mission. The latter don’t happen often these days, with the work August had been doing deemed more important than anything in the field.

Compact and functional, the hideout’s western style bathroom had sometimes felt a bit cramped when all three of them had been using it, but alone there’s more than enough room. Hanging his suit on a coat hanger he’s left on the back of the door he reaches into the shower and turns up the temperature. Scalding. Hot enough to make him feel alive, hot enough to clear the mess his mind is in for even just a moment so he can confirm to himself that he’s still the April he’s always been. He’s changed lately and is losing sight of who he used to be, the twisted monster grown from hatred, grief and a need for revenge has taken over. It wears his skin, speaks with his voice and has the same tastes as he’s always had but it’s all a lie. Fake.

Staring at himself in the mirror he lets his hands run over bare skin. Almost everything he sees is as it was when he still had August. There’s a few more scars, most from brutal interrogation at the hands of the Organisation itself. He dreads acquiring more and his outer shell changing further from the April August knew too. Hands moving up his neck he reaches for his glasses. It had been August’s suggestion that he wear them as Chikage, he’d picked out the frames saying he looked respectable and handsome in them and April hadn’t had a choice. He’s replaced them once during his time as Chikage, buying identical frames. Setting them down on the vanity he turns away from his reflection. He’s even less himself than usual tonight, unstable. Stress is building up despite him being able to take his time to breathe, perhaps it’s because he has that time that he’s feeling this way.

As hot water hits his skin he lets himself savour how the burning temperature shocks his system into feeling alive. Momentarily all of his dark thoughts leave, drowned out by the sound of the water hitting his skin and feeling it wash away everything. For a while he just stands there, eyes closed, face titled up into the spray as it washes over his skin, parts of who he’s become slip away, the April who he was trying to claw his way back. He’s never been the nicest guy, sharp tongue, abrupt answers and an inability to admit his true feelings, he has always been a bit of an asshole. August found something about that endearing though, he’d poke fun at April’s bad personality with a smile, dragging him into whatever it was he was doing at the time.

Going down this path is dangerous right now. Reminiscing about him never ends well, anger and bitterness bubbling over before long to save himself from breaking into tears that he’s not allowed to let himself spill. You’re not allowed to mourn as a member of the Organisation. He’d been interrogated ruthlessly and then released back onto his previous mission, a man twisted and broken from being questioned and tortured for days about his potential involvement expected to just carry on as though nothing had changed. It says a lot about the Organisation’s conditioning that until he’d found out December is still alive, he’d more or less managed to do that. His jaw clenches and his brows furrow instinctively even thinking about his name once more.

Reaching for his washcloth he pumps soap onto it, letter it lather and taking out his frustrations on the cloth by rubbing and squeezing it far tighter than need be. As he starts to work it over his skin, scrubbing far harder than he actually needs to, he feels a slight shiver run through him. He feels on edge, strangely so tonight. Usually contact like this from himself wouldn’t be stirring the electricity under his skin that this is. It has been a while since someone else had their hands on him and ah... That doesn’t help. As he continues to cover more skin in a soapy lather interest stirs from his cock, purely instinctive and usually he’d just ignore it. If he lets himself get off his mind is only going to wander to places where he doesn’t want it to. His only sexual outlet lately has been missions he’s willingly taken on knowing that he’ll not only get off but that the target will be so rough with him it won’t be possible for his mind to slip to thoughts of August. August could be sadistic in bed but he was more calculating and took April into account. The men he’s been sleeping with have been far more rough, selfish and if he wasn’t so pent up from refusing to touch himself, he wouldn’t be getting off with them at all.

Maybe it’s what he needs though, he’s already enough of a wreck that it’s not really going to make things worse for himself. His hand shakes slightly as he hangs the washcloth over a hook on the wall and wills his mind not to wander. Keeping it blank and just enjoying the physical relief of getting off is what he needs. It’s all he can really take. Closing his hand around his half hard cock he hears himself groan in relief quietly. It’s been so long since he’s allowed himself to do this.

It takes no time at all before he’s fully hard, his cock reacting so fast to attention as he begins to pump its length. He doesn’t try to go slow or to draw out and savour things, knowing that the longer this lasts, the more chance there is of his mind wandering but, he kind of wishes he could. He’s missed pleasure that focused on him and making him feel good and even though the hand that works his dick is moving fast and precisely, the stimulation feels like such a relief compared to repression and ignoring his needs.

The water aids his hand’s movements a little too much and he has to grip tighter to find the stimulation he craves. Bracing himself against the wall he feels his breathing start to pick up, pleasure sparking through him and combining to form a consistent, growing force. Water trails over his skin still hot and searing as his lips part for more air and the steam of the shower feels a little suffocating. Despite that as his hand continues to move, keeping up a rhythm that’s consistent and strong, he can’t bring himself to turn the temperature down nor to turn off the water. It’s all adding to the atmosphere, this shouldn’t be perfectly comfortable.

A quiet grunt of pleasure leaves him as he feels things kick up another notch. He wasn’t alone last time he got off in this shower and slowly the memories of that time start to creep back, tendrils of them licking at the forefront of his mind trying to be acknowledged. It hadn’t gone anything like this though. No hurried jerking off as he chokes on the stifling heat and pleasure rises within him startlingly fast. That makes sense though, the last time he actually got off had been with a target and that had been over a month ago. The last time he got off in here had felt natural, fun, even if it was too cramped with two people.

It was only once, the hide out’s shower is really too small for two of them but August had pulled him inside with him anyway, laughing as his lips crashed against April’s under the fall of the water. It usually started like that with him, a smile from August and a vibrant laugh; April was always powerless to say no to him. Pressed up against his slightly smaller body, fingers inside him and unraveling him easily, August had plied him with pleasure even within the confines of the space. The heat in the shower had been from far more than just the water, steam fogging up every surface it could as April’s cum had spilt over August’s abs.

A gasp pulls him back to the present, the memory accelerates things even more. Thinking about the way August’s fingers felt inside him, the way August would moan loudly and without shame when it was him getting off, the expressions he’d make the way he’d touch him… April’s breath shudders as the memories all come flooding back, strong and overwhelming. Pausing his hands movement he takes a moment to lets his thumb circle over the tip, hissing at the targeted contact with the sensitive head. He doesn’t need it to get off at all but thinking about August and the way he’d use abusing the sensitivity of the tip of April’s cock to drag moans out of a usually quiet man during sex, he can’t help but to mimic the action.

A third body tries to sneak into his fantasies, more lithe, voice speaking slower but moans higher. He does all he can to block it out. August is one thing but _him_ , he’s not letting himself think about him. Willing himself to focus on August is such a contrast from how things started out but at least he’s safer pretending it’s August in here jerking him off, whispering obscene things in his ear that you’d never guess could leave the lips of someone who looks and acts so kind and cheery. He knew exactly how to get April off and how to make him melt, switching between indulging his every need to being startlingly sadistic. No matter how August was playing with him, he still left April breathless and exhausted after finishing every single time.

It’s getting too much, not even the third person trying to make himself known in his memories can undo what his hand and the thoughts of August have built up. Each pump of his hand sends him closer, his cock twitching eagerly as he approaches his climax. Opening his mouth to gasp for breath, water falls between his lips, drawing him back to the present once more. The present where he’s alone in more ways than one. Fighting off that thought he pumps his fist harder, he’s almost there and he’s not going to let the reality of things take away the first orgasm he’s given himself since the event. Not that it could, the level of pleasure is too high, feeling his cock twitch again in his hand he knows he’s about to burst.

It’s not earth shattering or intense but the high of pleasure that hits him takes his breath regardless. Watching his release leave him, each shot is heavy, washing down the wall and mixing in with the water of the shower floor. As much as he doesn’t know how much he can take the emotional toll of letting himself do this more often perhaps he should, or perhaps he should start seeking out more targets he can drag information from by letting them use him. The last splatter of his cum lingers on the tiles briefly before the water washes it too away. Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply he tries to pretend the all of the wetness on his cheeks is from the spray of the shower head.

**Author's Note:**

> Well if you got here I hope you found something to enjoy in this, it contrasts very, very strongly with my fic from yesterday with April also jerking it but it being pre-Augusts death so him and December were on good terms.


End file.
